Run With Me
by bowtiecat
Summary: Elizaveta waited for Gilbert. When he came back, it was the night before her wedding. He had to win her heart and will back, before it was too late, and the sun broke over the horizon...PruHun. Prussia/Hungary. PrussiaxHungary.


**Run With Me**

_Run with me, let's go away_

_Leave everything behind_

_Over the hills and into the sunset_

_Like those cliché movie endings_

_Where they all live happily ever after…_

Gilbert had moved away when she was ten. They'd lost contact within the first year of his absence, even though they'd sworn to never lose each other when he left. The handwritten letters they'd exchanged had become emails, and the emails had slowly degenerated from long, lengthy, happy monologues into short, meaningless quips. Eventually, they just stopped trying.

That didn't stop Elizaveta from remembering him.

But memories were just memories, whether they were of playing tag with Gil or having arguments with him.

She moved on with her life, made lifetime friends, went to college, got a degree, and became engaged to Roderich Edelstein in the height of summer when she was twenty-six.

She told herself that she loved him with all her heart, she told herself that she was as happy as she could ever get, but something was missing. And while that something was missing, neither of those statements could be true.

Gilbert wasn't there, and she felt it.

Two days before her wedding, she opened up her email and searched through her contacts for Gilbert Beilschmidt. She sent him a wedding invitation, and a personal message.

_It wouldn't be right if you didn't come. What's a girl on her wedding day without her best friend?_

For a moment, she had hesitated when she wrote the message. For the first time, she thought about whether or not he was still her "best friend". Or whether he was still a "friend" at all.

She paused and shook her head. She wouldn't be feeling like this if he wasn't, right?

She clicked the send button.

On the night before her wedding, she checked her email for what seemed like the hundredth billionth time. She waited for that one reply from Gil.

It hadn't come.

Disappointment surged through her. She was getting married in the morning, for crying out loud. There wasn't enough time. Her wedding dress already hung in a corner of her room, white, pristine, and lovely.

She decided to try one more time. Whipping out her phone, she dug up the number he'd given her before he'd left, the number that she had never dialed in sixteen years.

She called, and waited as the ringing started.

"_I'm sorry; this number is out of service. For more information, call—"_

Elizaveta snapped the phone shut. Her eyes began to burn, and she didn't get why. He was just a friend, after all. Just a friend. Right?

"Damn you, Gil," she muttered. Her fists clenched, and she tried her hardest not to look at the glittering white dress in the corner. "I'm getting married. I'm…I'm getting married. I'm getting fucking married, Gil, and you have less than twelve hours to get your fucking goddamned ass over here!" Her spiel ended in a shout.

Silence followed her words, and everything seemed blurry.

She still didn't know why.

"Gee, no need to yell so loud, 'Liza," someone suddenly shouted, voice loud and brash, from outside.

Her eyes widened.

For a moment, she considered not going out to meet…him.

But it quickly passed, and she was out the door, feet going as fast as they could. She ran out into the night, everything black but for the light of the moon and the twinkling stars.

"Gil?" she called. She turned around, looking—

She more or less crashed straight into someone in a black t-shirt, whose arms closed around her and whose heart beat faster when they did.

She instinctively raised her arms to snake around him, and she hugged him to her as if she never intended to let go. She didn't even need to look up to know it was him. Elizaveta didn't even think about how awkward the meeting might have been, and still could be. Everything felt right.

For a few minutes, silence and the sound of the night around them were the only things that made noise.

Gilbert broke the quiet first.

"Elizaveta?" His voice was deeper, richer than she remembered, but it was even brasher than it used to be. Somehow, that made it all the better. "I'm sorry."

She smiled, and finally looked up into crimson eyes that were crinkled at the corners. His hair shone silver in the moonlight, and…

"Is that Gilbird?" she said, smile widening, reaching a hand at the little yellow chick resting on Gilbert's head. The bird chirped, and nuzzled into her hand.

"'Course it is. Gilbird's just that awesome," Gilbert snickered. "I am too, you know."

"Your ego's just as big as it used to be, huh," she replied dryly. She felt her eyes burn a bit again.

"Hey, why are you crying? I thought you'd be happy," Gilbert said, putting a fingertip to the edge of her eye, where moisture was gathering.

"I am happy," she said. She put a hand over his, and kept it to her face. "It's just…you got my email, right?"

"Duh. I'm not that unawesome to not check my email," he snorted.

"Hmmph. I would have hunted you down and killed you if you hadn't. Besides, you didn't even send me a reply! I'd beat you up for that right now, except you're going to be best man tomorrow, and I can't have the best man walking around with a black eye and some broken bones," Elizaveta said. She took his hand from her face, but she still held it as both arms went down.

"No, I'm not going to be best man," Gilbert suddenly said. His hand squeezed hers.

"What?" she asked, surprised. "Why not? I'm getting married in the morning, and it's almost midnight now, birdbrain."

He rolled his eyes, but was still grinning. "Oh, are we back to insults now?" he teased.

"Shut up. I could still beat you to a pulp if I wanted to."

"Sure, sure," he chuckled. But then he became serious. "I'm not going to be best man, because you're not going to get married."

"What?!"

"Run away with me," he said, as serious as she'd ever seen him. "Don't get married to that snobby dweeb. You deserve better."

"Your ego's gotten bigger," she said. She could feel her face burning. "Roddy's a sweet young man, and—"

"And?" he challenged. "What's keeping you back? Is it because you don't know I love you?"

She was speechless.

"Now you know," he declared. "I always have, and always will." His bravado suddenly seemed to melt away, and he looked unsure. "I hope you love me too, otherwise this whole thing would be pretty ridiculous."

She just stared at him. He stared back at her.

"Gilbert. It's the night before my wedding. I'm _engaged_. I have less than eight hours before I'm tied to Roddy for life." While she had intended to make that sound like a statement of fact, somehow it had evolved into a complaint of sorts.

"So? Your friends will all understand if they're really your friends, and you don't have family holding you back—"

"I have Roderich, Gilbert! Has it ever gone through your head that maybe, just maybe, I like Roddy? That I love him? That I accepted his marriage proposal because I was willing to spend the rest of my life with him? You're so cocky, you make me sick." She yanked her hand out of his. "Good night, Gilbert. I'll see you at the wedding." She turned away from him.

Suddenly, he yanked her arm. She turned, ready to sock him in the face, only to be pulled in for a kiss that was soft and gentle and deep. It was so different from his usual loud, egotistical personality that she actually stopped to savor it.

And then, of course, she was caught.

She realized why she'd been so desperate to get Gilbert to come, why she'd even agreed to marry Roderich in the first place.

She was scared, scared of the wedding, scared of the life-changing decision it meant, and…

She was in love. With Gilbert. With someone that she'd practically had no contact with for the last sixteen years. With an egotistical, brash, loud albino jerk with a bird for a best friend.

But then again, love was a strange thing, and somehow, she finally figured out it had been there all along.

When they broke apart, he was smiling an unsure smile. She thought it was adorable. He really need to be less sure of himself more often.

"Please?" His voice was practically tiny. She resisted the urge to giggle.

Elizaveta leaned in, her forehead against his, eyes closed and mouth smiling.

"Okay."

_Run away with me_

_Let's be happy_

_Let's not care what anyone else thinks_

_Because all that matters_

_Is that we're together_

_And running away from it all_

_It's sure to be_

_Paradise._


End file.
